Unmasking the Duke's Mistress (Gentlemen of Disrepute #1)(63)

‘Not having one yourself?’ Hunter took the glass with thanks and lounged back in his armchair.

Dominic shook his head.

‘Misbourne has been asking around about you at White’s.’

‘Just what I want to hear,’ said Dominic. ‘Did you come over to tell me that?’

‘No. I came to see how you are.’ Dominic could feel Hunter’s watchful gaze.

‘I take it you know?’ Dominic could tell from the compassion on his friend’s face that he did.

‘All of London knows. It makes no sense, Dominic. Arabella has even more reasons than you to want this marriage. Why would she break the betrothal?’

‘I believe she was acting under duress. Someone got to her, Sebastian. Someone who knew that she was Miss Noir.’

Hunter’s face sharpened. He sat up straighter in his chair. ‘I think there is something you should hear, concerning Miss Noir, Dominic. I paid another little visit to Mrs Silver’s house the other night, to see Tilly, Miss Rose. In the course of things she mentioned that there have been quite a few enquiries about Miss Noir.’ Hunter met Dominic’s gaze.

‘It is not unexpected. They were well paid to stay quiet. And Mrs Silver is adamant they have not talked.’

‘And I think she is correct for Tilly would not speak of Miss Noir to me. But she did let slip that there was one gentleman who offered serious gelt—I mean hundreds of pounds—for the smallest scrap of information concerning Miss Noir. Tilly thinks that one of the footmen may have been tempted to break his silence. Apparently the servant has recently disappeared. And there were whispers that he was experiencing financial difficulties of a nature similar to my own.’

‘Gambling debts?’

Hunter gave a nod.

‘And what of the gentleman asking the questions?’

‘A Mr Smith, apparently, although I doubt he would have been fool enough to use his real name.’ Hunter gave a grim smile, which soon faded as his eyes met Dominic’s.

Dominic’s gaze narrowed. ‘Smith?’

‘Indeed. I see it has some significance for you.’

‘Did the girl tell you anything else other than his name?’

Hunter smiled again. ‘Oh, yes. Very observant is Tilly. She described him right down to his “dark dangerous eyes”, and his walking cane with a “monstrous silver wolf’s head” as its handle. She noticed it because it had tiny emerald chips for eyes.’

A wolf’s head on a walking cane? There was something familiar about that. Dominic had seen such an item before, but he could not remember where. ‘Cannot be too many of those around.’

‘No,’ said Hunter with a meaningful smile. ‘I see your mind follows the same path as mine. I suppose now you will be off hunting down this Smith character tonight rather than hitting the town with young Northcote and Bullford and a few of the others?’

The two men exchanged a look.

‘Damned shame. Thought you might have changed our present run of bad luck on the tables.’

‘Another night, my friend,’ Dominic said and gave Hunter a light thump on the shoulder. ‘After I have found Smith.’

Chapter Eighteen



Dominic was becoming increasingly frustrated with the slow progress of the investigation. It had been half an hour since the ex-Bow Street runner had left his study in Arlesford House and Dominic was musing over the scraps of information the man had delivered. Despite five days of intense questioning, tracking and bribing, it had proved impossible to find the silversmith who had crafted the unusual head of the walking cane. And all enquiries to discover its owner had so far met with a wall of silence.

Dominic’s other lines of enquiries had been more fruitful. He knew that Smith had attempted to buy information concerning Arabella in her guise as both Miss Noir and Mrs Marlbrook from a variety of sources, including the servants both in his and Arabella’s households. He knew that enquiries had been made concerning who was paying the rent on the town house in Curzon Street, who had ordered and paid for the furnishings and who had arranged for and paid the servants.

The missing manservant from Mrs Silver’s had been found in a gaming house in Brighton, frittering away the last of his enormous bribe on the tables, with not a one of his debts cleared, and a very ugly posse of creditors at the door. Five hundred pounds was an extraordinary sum to have been paid for a description and confirmation of the fact that the Duke of Arlesford had bedded Miss Noir on her first night in the place and bought her the next evening from Mrs Silver. And although Dominic did not yet know the identity of Smith, he did know that someone very rich had gone to a lot of trouble to find Arabella.

The obvious next step was to go up to Amersham and speak to Arabella, but there was a risk that if he did she would tell him nothing, Smith would get word of it and then would discover her whereabouts. He needed to find this Smith first. And he wondered again why the hell Arabella had not come to him for help. No matter the threats Smith had made about revealing her identity, Dominic knew he could have protected her. He massaged the tightness from his temple and poured himself a brandy.

There came the sound of the front door being opened and then quietly closed again. Dominic barely noticed it. What he did notice was the light running footsteps that pattered quietly across the marble flags of his hallway. He felt the warning whisper against the back of his neck and goosepimple his skin. Dominic stopped lounging, sat upright and set his glass down on the desk. His hand was slipping within his desk drawer just as the door burst open and a small dark cloaked figure rushed into his study to stand before him.